


If The Night's Not Sure, Who Is?

by StellarLibraryLady



Series: Star Trek The Gentle Seasons Series [26]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Anal Sex, Blue Moon (Song), Bones Is A Lone Wolf, Dancing, Disgruntled McCoy, Fingering, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Goth McCoy, Goth Nightclub, Groping, Kirk And McCoy Slow Dancing, Lone Wolf, LoneWolf!Bones, M/M, Neglected McCoy, Neglectful Kirk, Roommates, Sexy Kirk, Slow Dancing, Starfleet Cadets, hot kisses, mckirk - Freeform, song related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-06 10:29:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12209412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellarLibraryLady/pseuds/StellarLibraryLady
Summary: It was one thing to be the roommate of one of the hottest guys at Starfleet Academy.  It was another to live in his shadow.Jim Kirk and Bones McCoy are roommates at Starfleet Academy, but McCoy is feeling neglected until Kirk hunts him up at McCoy's favorite nightspot.





	1. It's A Lonely Ol' Night

**Author's Note:**

> For mindbender and my other readers who are McKirk fans. You're right, mindbender. Kirk and McCoy can make the temperature rise in a room.

It was one thing to be the roommate of one of the hottest guys at Starfleet Academy. It was another to live in his shadow. 

Sure, Jim made it worth Leonard’s trouble. When Jim concentrated on a person, the whole world lit up for that person. The only problem was that Jim rarely concentrated on McCoy. Hell, McCoy spent the better part of one semester not living in his own room. He’d come back and find an old, out of style necktie hanging on the doorknob and knew that Jim was entertaining yet another person in their room. Generally the person was female, beautiful, and a ball breaker. Generally Jim was on to another person before he was left himself. Sometimes, when Jim had really cared for a person, he’d go on a drunk of epic proportions. Generally, McCoy had to find him and clean him up. Generally, Jim was his for a few days, then he’d find another tail to chase. And McCoy would be alone again.

Leonard should've stayed back in Georgia and married his high school sweetheart. She would’ve been the type to have lived on pinto beans and ramen noodles while she worked flipping burgers to put him through medical school. They would've been well on their way to notoriety and prosperity by now with youngsters in grade school. Their status would be well established in the country club set. 

They’d take vacations to the mountains, getting further away and more adventuresome as the children aged. They’d all be in Mensa, because the whole family would be very intelligent and quite talented in everything they tried from sports to musical instruments. And if and when the time came that either he or his wife had an affair or wanted out of the marriage, it would all be very discrete and quite civilized. 

It would have been a very orderly and well respected life. Perhaps that was why he ran so fast from it. Even when he had found the perfect woman in Jocelyn and they had produced the perfect child in Joanna, he could not be content with it.

Oh, there had been other people, men as well as women who’d tumbled into his bed with him on occasion. He had even been sweet on one or two really good people, but his heart often felt as hollow as his life was now feeling. Why wasn't he satisfied with anything?

And now here he was, living in the library or science lab or wherever he could crash because he couldn’t get into his own room longer than to grab a quick shower and change clothes. Once he had hinted to Jim about changing roommates, and Jim had actually blanched from the idea. Jim Kirk needed McCoy somewhere in his life. That didn’t mean that McCoy had to be present all the time. In fact, Kirk liked it better if he never saw McCoy. Just so McCoy was somewhere in his world. Then he was contended.

And Kirk never wondered once if McCoy was contended. McCoy wondered how long it would take for Kirk to figure out that McCoy had changed rooms or had left Starfleet or had found a place for himself where people appreciated him.

McCoy started wearing all black when he wasn‘t in uniform: tight black levis, black tee-shirt, black bomber jacket. He could’ve had a dozen sets of those clothes or only one. Nobody knew for certain. Nobody cared, as far as McCoy could notice.

McCoy took to hanging out where deadbeat wannabes gathered. It was dark inside the little club and looked more like some cellar café in Paris. Goth posing women came onto him, and he realized that he matched their counterparts. Some he took to bed, some he denied so they would weep over him, some he lived with for a night or a week. Never longer than a week, though. They started looking normal and bossing him around like they were married. He didn’t need that scene. 

If he’d wanted that, he would’ve stayed with Jocelyn. Well, to be honest, she'd moved on mentally, if not physically since their marriage. He finally took the hint when he found men’s clothing in the closet and knew that they weren’t his. Sure was a subtle way to tell you that the marriage is over, McCoy decided. Of course, McCoy’s first clue and harshest was the no-sex ban on their marriage bed. That tends to cure the hottest ardor.

 

McCoy was thinking himself drunk that evening as he headed for his Goth café home. He’d had to do that lately because alcohol just wasn’t bringing him the right buzz fast enough. He had to put himself in the mood to get drunk, or else the magic didn’t happen.

As he neared the café, he looked up and thought that he recognized Jim. Hell, couldn’t be, he thought. Jim would never come to a place like this. Jim had too many other places to be. There were too many people out there waiting for someone like Jim Kirk. That's why it couldn't be him slouching in front of the shadowy café.

But it was Jim Kirk, and he was approached by others before McCoy got to him.

“Hi, baby,” slurred a brunette with a short skirt and a see-through blouse as she sidled up to Kirk. “Wanna take me inside?” She batted her heavily made up eyes at Kirk, and it was a wonder that a clanking noise wasn’t heard. Her eyes were lacquered up that much.

“No, thanks, ma’am,” Jim slurred in that sweet way of his with that boyish grin that made women wet their underpants and men shoot off in their shorts. “I’m waiting for someone.”

“Too bad.” She batted her eyes some more, and he opened his mouth in a toothy grin.

“How about me, sweet thing?” demanded a burly man as he approached Kirk on his other side. The guy had no hair on his head, but seemed to have tons of it sprouting out of his opened vest. Presumably, there was more of a thatch of hair below the waist where his penis nested while waiting for action. “I’d like to show a sweet little dumpling like you a good time.” He winked at Kirk. “I’ll ruin you for most guys. You wouldn’t even be able to feel them inside you once I get through with you.”

“I doubt if I’d like that, then,” Kirk answered sweetly. “You see, I like a rich variety. And I’m fickle. I’d be thinking of someone else while you’re doing me the second time.”

“I like to think that I’m special.”

“I’m sure you are. Maybe next time. I’m waiting for someone.”

“You’ve just had the best of both worlds thrown at you, mister," the man scowled. "This other person must be quite a catch.”

“I am,” McCoy answered as he stepped into their circle. “Jim. Baby. Sorry I’m late. And I shouldn’t have dallied, seeing what was waiting for me.”

“Bones,” Kirk greeted and hugged McCoy liked they did that kind of thing all of the time. “Wanna meet my two new friends?”

“I know Jake the Smear and Sylvanya.” McCoy tried to sound natural, but his arms and chest were still vibrating from Kirk’s very friendly body slam.

“We were just visiting with your friend, Lenny,” Jake the Smear explained. “Keeping him company for you until you got here, you know?”

“I know, guys,” McCoy answered with a lazy smile. “See you inside.” He grabbed Kirk’s arm and steered him toward the door. “Come on. Lover.”

“Nice friends,” Kirk muttered with a grin as they entered the dark place. “Are you issued miner’s caps when you ordinarily come into this joint?”

“What do you want, Jim?” McCoy muttered lowly, all the while keeping a pleasant look on his face. He didn’t know why he made the effort, though, in the darkness. Ordinarily, he liked the womb-like atmosphere. It was a good place to hide. Tonight, it just felt dark.

That was because of the gaudy ornament on his arm. Taking a golden god like Jim Kirk somewhere like this dump was akin to running the Olympic torch in to start the games. All eyes were on you. Well, not on you. On that damn torch in your hand or that golden presence on your arm.

“Damn it, Jim! Wanna turn it down a wattage or two?!” McCoy growled.

“How am I supposed to do that, Bones?” Kirk asked self-consciously.

McCoy felt disgruntled with Kirk. Obviously the guy owned a mirror and knew what a stir he caused wherever he went. Surely he knew that his golden presence didn’t go away just because he stopped looking in the mirror. That was like gazing at Niagara Falls for awhile, turning away about something, then happening to turn around again and seeing that the Falls was still boiling over that brink to rejoin the Niagara River far below.

“I don’t want to have to defend your honor in here,” McCoy growled lowly.

“What? Do I look like I have my hands tied behind my back? I’m not exactly incapacitated here.”

“Wanna bet? You’re the fair maiden in the tower. You’ve got the cunt that everyone wants.”

"Everybody, Bones?" Kirk teased.

McCoy shoved Kirk into a chair. “Here. Sit here. It’s about as far away as we can go from civilization at this club, unless we want to sit in the alley.”

“This must be your corner then,” Kirk said, looking around and accessing the area. “This is where you go all the time, isn't it?”

McCoy piled down in his usual chair. “No, part of the time I’m at the library or the lab or at some science nerd’s crash site.” He frowned. “Why are you so interested all of a sudden? Are all of your whores busy tonight?”

Kirk flinched. “You’ve been waiting awhile to say that, haven’t you? Did it feel good?”

“Not as good as I thought it would.” McCoy grimaced. “Damn it, Jim, I can’t hate you, although I have a damn good reason. Several, in fact. What’s wrong? Wanna know if your fan club base is still intact? Well, it is. I’d walk over coals for you. Always would, always will.”

“I take it, though, that you think I wouldn’t reciprocate.”

“I haven’t had much proof to the contrary. Is that why you’re here? Time to check your fan club base again?”

“Don’t you ever get the blues, Bones?”

McCoy just stared at Kirk. “You gotta be kidding! That’s my general frame of mind. Is there any other way to live?”

“How do you handle it?”

McCoy studied Kirk. “Yeah, I probably would know more about something like that than you would. When you’re glum, you really hit bottom, don't you? Me, I know how to handle it because I live it so much.”

“You still didn’t tell me how to handle it. You just told me that you’re more of an expert on the subject. That much I know. Why do you think I came to you?”

McCoy smirked. “Then you’ll be off again when you get your answer.” He sighed. “Well, what’s the problem?”

“I think I’m in trouble with someone I think the world of, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“What got you in trouble in the first place?”

“Oh, the usual. Neglect. Taking the person for granted. Not saying enough how much I really love the person.” He shrugged. “That sort of thing.”

Which floozy had broken Jim’s heart now? Or not given in for sex when he had wanted it?

“Well, be considerate, for a change," McCoy suggested. "Pay attention to the person. Spend time together. When do you want to start?”

“I just did,” Kirk said softly as he gazed steadily at McCoy. "That's why I'm here."

McCoy never saw that coming. He nearly choked on his drink.

“Where have you been, Bones? You’re gone all the time.”

“Hell, I can’t get into my own room! It’s too crowded! Or busy. That damn necktie is always on the doorknob. Can't you at least find one that's in style? People will think that there's a couple of jerks with no fashion sense living in that room.”

“It's was my granddad's necktie." He looked up at McCoy. "I didn’t mean to run you out.”

“The smell of sex nearly chokes me from the hallway. I needed fresh air.”

“I guess my room is pretty popular.”

“You just said it. Your room. Not mine.”

“Let me make it up.”

“How?”

“That’s what I want you to tell me.”

“Hell, I don’t know! I’m kinda used to the way things are.”

“Yeah, and I’m afraid that someday you aren’t gonna show up. For good.”

“What are you? A mind reader?”

“So you have been thinking about it?” Kirk asked.

“Yeah.”

“Well, are you?”

“Going go on thinking about it? Or acting on it?”

“Either. Both.”

“Hell, I don’t know.” McCoy frowned. “Are we starting to get drunk?”

Kirk snorted. “It seems that way. I thought we could hold our alcohol better than this. We’re worse than two college freshmen away from home for the first time.”

“Maybe it’s the subject. Maybe it’s conducive for intoxication.”

“Now you’re starting to sound like that Vulcan prig. What’s his name?”

“Spock of the pointed ears,” McCoy answered. “A hard ass of an instructor if there ever was one. I’d sure hate to be his friend.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Bones,” Kirk simpered. “He’s probably better company than a constipated moose.”

“Hell, I think I’ll take the moose, if it‘s all the same to you! The moose is bound to shit sometime, and that’ll improve its personality a whole lot. While Spock, well, Spock’s always gonna be permanently constipated.”

Kirk giggled. “Stop it! Stop it! I won’t be able to sit in a class of his without thinking of him sitting on the pot and being disappointed again.”

The two reunited friends collapsed in peals of laughter.

“Oh, hell, Bones, they’ll be throwing us out of here for getting rowdy!”

“From this place?! Don‘t you know, Jim?! Anything goes here! That's why I can identify so well with it!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing of the song "It's A Lonely Ol' Night" by John Mellencamp, nor do I represent him.


	2. Blue Moon

Kirk grabbed McCoy‘s arm and stopped in wonder. “Listen! Hey, hear that music that’s being played?”

McCoy froze, too. He couldn‘t believe it. “What the-- How far back did they have to reach for that?”

Kirk grinned with remembrance. “My grandparents used to dance to that song in the living room of the farm house.”

“Your grandparents? I would’ve thought that it’d be too old for even them.”

“’Blue Moon.’ It’s been a blue moon since I’ve heard it, too.” Kirk’s eyes softened with romantic lights behind them. “They always looked so in love when they danced together like that. How I envied them. I knew, even back then, that was the kind of love I wanted for myself.”

“It is a magic song, alright. I’m glad some DJ is romantic enough to still play something like that.”

“It sure takes me back,” Kirk said as his eyes looked misty with scenes from long ago.

“Wanna dance?” McCoy asked softly.

Kirk’s head snapped around. “Really? Us? You and me?”

“Sure. Why not? Other couples are out on the floor. I see women with women and men with men. There’s even a couple of heterosexual couples out there, just so the world can relax knowing that babies will keep getting born.” He jerked his head toward the dance floor. “So, how about it, hmm?” He hoped Jim didn’t realize how much his heart was in his throat.

Kirk turned his tender gaze on his friend. “Sure. Two buddies can do that.”

They went into each other’s arms and started moving gently to the music. And they hadn’t danced but a few measures before they both felt like they were more than friends.

“Make me feel the way they felt, Bones,” Kirk whispered against McCoy‘s ear. “Make me feel loved.”

“Anything for you, Jimmy. Anything.” McCoy pulled Kirk closer, and they listened to the lyrics as they kept time to the simple rhythm.

 

Blue Moon  
You saw me standing alone  
Without a dream in my heart  
Without a love of my own

 

“This is nice, Bones. Real nice. I feel so special.”

“You are special, Jim. You always have been,” McCoy whispered against Kirk’s ear. Then his lips gently touched those curious curlicues that formed Kirk’s ear.

“That tickles, Bones,” Kirk giggled.

“You’ll get used to it,” McCoy murmured as his hand ran down Kirk‘s back, cupped a handful of Kirk’s ass, and squeezed. 

Kirk gasped, then fitted himself against McCoy and gave his consent.

McCoy moved his body against Kirk's, grinding and feeling everything that Kirk had to offer. He knew that Kirk was receiving an inventory of his attributes, also.

McCoy continued the stroking of Kirk’s backside, then rubbed himself up against Kirk harder. McCoy was all but fucking Kirk right there on the dance floor, surrounded by dozens of other people doing the same thing to their dance partners. And the air in the dank, dark café was smelling of smoke and sweat and precum. And nobody minded one bit.

Then someone punched the recording, and ’Blue Moon’ came rolling out over the dance floor again as everyone shadow-fucked their partners in place.

 

Blue moon  
You knew just what I was there for  
You heard me saying a prayer for  
Someone I really could care for

 

Then McCoy and Kirk were back in their room, neither knowing how or when they had left the club. There was nothing except a memory of clinging to each other as if they would never let go.

And their dorm room was darker and more shadowy than the Goth club, if that was possible. 

And the music and the lyrics had followed them somehow as they swayed in each other’s arms slower and slower until they were barely moving.

Kirk closed his eyes and breathed deeply in contentment. “Bones, don’t leave me. Don’t ever leave me.”

“How could I? Now?” His lips had moved from Kirk’s ear to his mouth. McCoy caught Kirk’s lips with his own as he talked, and he could feel a building up inside which would demand more eventually. Deeper kisses. Harder kisses. More urgent kisses. And McCoy felt that Kirk would meet him with whatever he had to offer.

Then, somehow, their clothing was puddles in the corners. Kirk’s uniform and McCoy’s all black Goth gear. And still the music and the words played for them as they gently swayed back and forth, back and forth.

Then, as if on cue, they stopped and looked at each other. That look was full of caring and yearning and passion. But mostly acceptance and acknowledgement. This had to be. It was meant to be.

This golden god was standing before McCoy in all his glory. Kirk’s eyes were mellow and shiny. How could McCoy walk away from that?

This time when their lips met, the kiss was different. It deepened and deepened as McCoy’s mouth worked against Kirk’s. And their nether regions were crowded with erect, excited penises.

 

And then there suddenly appeared before me  
The only one my arms will hold  
I heard somebody whisper please adore me  
And when I looked to the moon it turned to gold

 

McCoy pushed Kirk down on one of their beds and shoved his nose into Kirk’s scrotum where the hair was short and wiry. It smelled of government issue soap and excited sex. And McCoy wanted a taste of it. Hell, he wanted a banquet of the golden god lying pliant and responsive to whatever McCoy chose to do with him.

The taste of Jim Kirk down there was better than McCoy had ever imagined. He hoped the angels were singing in ecstasy, because he sure as hell was.

Kirk had the audacity to laugh. “Aren’t you working on the wrong side of me?”

“I’ll get there.”

“What’s so interesting in all of that fuzz, anyway? You haven’t even gotten to the main attraction down there. Just bumped into it some with your cheek.”

“I want you good and excited first.”

“As if I already wasn’t. What are you planning on doing? Reading me a bedtime story? Oh, hell!” Kirk screamed as McCoy’s puckered lips found Kirk’s Holy Shrine Number One and began moving on Kirk’s stiffened shaft.

McCoy licked and sucked and teased causing Kirk to flatten himself on the bed and tear at the bottom sheet with his fingernails. Kirk squeezed his eyes shut and made frantic little noises deep in his throat and through his opened mouth. He had no idea at that moment who he was, and he really didn’t care. All he knew and cared about was McCoy’s warm, wet, massaging mouth and scrapping teeth. And, oh, hell, oh, hell! McCoy’s throat! McCoy’s warm, wet, pulsating throat, pulling Kirk down, down, down into an abyss where the gods dwelt. Ever devouring him, ever sucking him, ever pleasing him to no end. If this was what Heaven was like, Kirk was ready to die.

Kirk shot to a sitting position and grabbed McCoy‘s head to force him to finish the job he was performing so well. Kirk felt adrift on the crest of a shore bound tide as his hands tore at McCoy's hair. 

McCoy pulled up suddenly, and Kirk cried out in protest. A moment later the sound was cut to guttural moans as McCoy’s mouth fell hard over Kirk’s. It was a kiss of triumph and conquest and passion. And Kirk accepted it and returned it with as much fervor as he was capable of returning in his present state of excitement.

Then just that fast, McCoy rolled Kirk over, ripped his legs open, and found the darling pink anus hiding between Kirk’s butt cheeks. It was working in and out rhythmically and seemed to entice McCoy toward its exotic pleasures. With his fingers McCoy began gently to stretch that tight set of muscles so it could accept something larger of McCoy’s than his fingers. 

A tiny bit of intestinal gas escaped the extended muscle, and McCoy grinned. He hoped he didn’t stimulate any other automatic bodily functions in Kirk.

Meanwhile, Kirk lay with his face shoved into the pillow. He hissed at the burn of the eager fingers. That touch, McCoy’s touch, the touch of the man he thought he’d lost, was almost too much to bear. What would the other be the like to receive? What would McCoy’s penis feel like ripping eagerly into his defensive flesh? And it was McCoy, McCoy, McCoy, who was going to be do all of this to him. 

McCoy whom he secretly loved, but stayed away from to protect the guy. Jim Kirk knew that he couldn’t be true to McCoy, so he tried to stay from him as much as possible. He thought it was kinder. But it was killing Kirk to stay away. And then, tonight, tonight he couldn’t stay away any longer, and he had to go find McCoy. Kirk knew that he was risking heartbreak for both of them, but he could stay away no longer.

And Kirk was glad that he had found McCoy. This was wonderful, wonderful. Tomorrow be damned. They would have tonight, if they had nothing else.

But now, Kirk was much too busy to be thinking of all of consequences and the future. He wanted to concentrate on now and on what McCoy was going to be doing to him at any moment now.

Kirk was excited, so excited that his whole intestinal system was in an uproar.

That might not be good news.

Don’t let me take a crap now, Kirk prayed. It would kinda break the mood. Odd that he would have a thought like that. Odd that he could think coherently at all. 

Oh, hell, Kirk was beautiful, McCoy thought as he listened to Kirk pant and moan in the near darkness. Already the room was stinking of male sex, and they hadn’t done that much yet. Wait until I’m finished with this god, McCoy thought with a grin. We‘ll have to air the place out for a week. 

He reached down and found a home for his hardened, anxious, throbbing penis.

And James T. Kirk found a new song to sing. The moon had turned to gold for him.

 

Later, they lay in each other’s arms and talked of silly stuff, memories of home, baseball games they’d played as children, first dates, first kisses. It was almost as if two friends were sitting in the park and telling childhood memories without really listening to the other one.

Later yet, McCoy held a sleeping Kirk loosely in his arms and wondered how long this would all last. Kirk had been in a funk. McCoy had taken advantage. No, that wasn’t really it, either. Kirk had said that he was afraid of losing McCoy.

Damn it, for some reason, Kirk needed him. And, oh, hell, McCoy needed Kirk. Not just as a lover, but as a friend. Tears squeezed out of his eyes. If he wasn’t careful, he’d lose both Kirks.

He may, just may, have begun to feel a little again, and that might not be as good of news as it should have been.

If his jaded feelings were beginning to show signs of life again, McCoy would hurt so badly when Kirk went away. Kirk didn’t have a very good track record with faithfulness.

But for now, McCoy had this golden body in his arms. For now, Kirk was his. For however long he could keep him, Kirk was his.

 

Blue moon  
Now I'm no longer alone  
Without a dream in my heart  
Without a love of my own

 

Kirk was gone in the morning.

At least that was what McCoy assumed. All he saw was the door as it closed the last few inches. Of course, the door had to make that telltale ‘whoof’ sound because it had some age to it and had been used a lot by dozens of Starfleet students.

McCoy rolled over on his back and sighed. Well, that hadn’t lasted long. McCoy had expected, had hoped, for more. But apparently that wasn’t to be. The only difference now in their relationship was that McCoy was in their dorm room and Kirk was gone. McCoy glanced around. Ironic, he thought. He got what he wanted. He was back in his room. It was his, solely his, now.

Trouble was, now he realized that it actually hadn’t been just the room he’d wanted. He’d wanted it, AND he’d wanted Jim Kirk in it.

Well, get that silly notion out of your mind. This had been the greatest one night stand on record, as far as he was concerned.

He’d quietly gather his things and disappear. He’d leave Starfleet Academy and wouldn’t even let Jocelyn known his whereabouts. He’d hit the open road and become a family physician in, in, in Wyoming! Why the hell not?! He’d always wanted to be a cowboy. Here was his chance. 

After all, he had to do something with the rest of his life, the rest of his life after Jim Kirk.

The door opened, and McCoy’s head snapped up.

Jim Kirk was standing there in nothing but a white towel worn sarong style around his golden body and knotted low on one hip. His hair was still damp from the shower.

“Well, good morning, sleepy head,” Kirk said with a wide grin. “Sleep well?”

“Well, yeah,” McCoy answered. He frowned. “I thought you left.”

“I did. Well, I was standing just outside the door.”

“Standing just outside the door? In that getup? You probably raised a few eyebrows, not to mention a few hard cocks.”

Kirk grinned in appreciation. “One can only hope, can’t one?”

“What in the hell were you doing out there so early in the day?”

“Tying my granddad’s necktie on the doorknob.”

McCoy thought his heart would stop beating. As it was, he felt hot and cold all over.

Tying the necktie? Then that meant Kirk wanted to-- With him again. Uh. Wow!

Heart, you can start beating again any time soon now.

“And I must’ve been real excited or something, because I couldn’t get the damn thing tied right. The doorknob looks like it’s been out on a bender, instead of us.” His grin was nervous. “I kept thinking of what was waiting for me back here in my bed, and I couldn‘t get back in here fast enough.”

McCoy looked around. “I’ll be damn. It is your bed.”

“Yours, now, too,” Kirk said as he walked toward McCoy. 

The skimpy towel did little to hide his assets. McCoy kept getting interesting glimpses.

“Mighty alluring outfit you’re wearing.”

“I figure I won’t be wearing it for very long,” Kirk flirted.

“You figure right,” McCoy growled.

Kirk stopped at McCoy’s head. “Wanna take it off me?” His voice was low with passion.

McCoy grinned. “Like unwrapping a present?” He reached out.

“Can’t you think of something more interesting than your hands?” Kirk coached with a hard glint in his eyes.

McCoy’s eyes gleamed with sudden fires. “Cadet Kirk, I like the way you think!”

“Dr. McCoy, I like the way you fuck! Now, stop your screwing around and satisfy me!”

“Stop your waving yourself around like that at me, and I will!”

Kirk grinned with the double meaning of the words he was about to utter. “Make me.”

So McCoy did.

 

Blue moon  
Now I'm no longer alone  
Without a dream in my heart  
Without a love of my own

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing of the song "Blue Moon" by the numerous artists who recorded it.

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing of Star Trek, its characters, and/or its story lines.


End file.
